Historical Demigods: The Revolution
by The Most Mysterious M
Summary: Hercules, Theseus, Perseus. You know these men to be some of the finest heroes in myths and literature. Historical figures like Harriet Tubman and The wright brothers are like them too, demigods with amazing powers, shaping our world as we know it. Now, it's time to recognize them as the demigods they were. Our first part centers around Alexander Hamilton & the revolution
1. Chapter 1:Fresh Off The Boat

**So you know how in the Lightning Thief Percy's talking about the fireworks and he mentions how George Washington was a son of Athena? Well, I have this obsession with Hamilton ( I blame the internet), so the other day I'm just like "What if I made a story about historical demigods?" Yeah... So I'ma give it a try.** **1773, New York City**

* * *

Alexander stepped off the boat eagerly, taking in the simplicity of the large city. So large, so elegant, so grandeur, yet so simple. But it was better than Nevis. He didn't mean to insult his old home-if he could call it that- but something about New York, it just gave him hope.

Hope. It burned passionately in his heart, inspiring him. The same feeling he had when he got that job helping his late mother's landlord, maybe-just maybe- he could get something better. Achieve something better than what his 'father' left him with.

Alexander only carried a bag. Several letters were stuffed inside, a long since rotten apple, the left-over money from the villagers on Nevis, and a quill.

Another symbol of hope for Alex. The very same quill he wrote the letter to his father with. Although the sick bastard had left him and his mother by themselves to die in poverty, keeping in touch had benefited him in unimaginable ways.

He laughed at the irony of it. The same man who sent him into poverty was the same one who gave him the opportunity to be in this place, far away from the hell-hole in the Caribbean.

In New York, his dreams could be accomplished, he could be a new man, have a new life, get married, have children, be happy for once. But he knew that would take work, but Alexander had the drive, he had the focus, he would-

"Hey," a voice called out. "Watch where you're going, lick-finger!"

Alexander blushed, then looked around to see that a scrawny and partically grouchy figure was staring at him. He shirt was wet and the man angrily swung his now empty bucket.

"Great, now I'm late for work an' I have to go back to the well. Dammit!"

"S-s-sorry sir," Alexander stammered, then hurried away. _They aren't exactly as nice as I imagined. But it was my fault,_ Alexander thought. _Now, for the actual reason I'm here. To get into a good college. Princeton, that's a good college no?_

That, of course was not his real reason, but he lied to himself, and made it his.

But, in order to make his lies true, he'd need help for that, and in the large city, it'd be hard.

That was, if he had not made arrangements with the friend of his friend. And so, he scanned the bilboards, the signs each and every inch of the avenue looking for his place.

Finally, he rounded his way onto 5th Avenue.

Alexander walked down the avenue looking for a tailor's parlor. But the damn people in this town seemed to block every exit. Alex was simply moving with the crowd at this point until finally, he rounded a corner. He stopped for a second just to catch his breath. Then he saw it.

 **Taylor's Tailor Parlor**

It was written so neatly. Each letter curved in such an elegant way, things like this never existed on Nevis. He walked in.

The parlor smelled so fresh. Like new clothes. Which Alex assumed it would smell like, after all, it was a clothing store. But it was so ... clean.

Suddenly a man with knight cap poked his head through the doorframe. "Oy, we got a customer!" The guy walked out revealing a very broad shouldered man with hands that looked like they could easily squish you to a pulp. He had an intimidating glare that made Alexander want to shit himself right then, but he kept control of his bladder. ]

"Uhh," Alexander stuttered.

"Hercules Mulligan at your service, I'm a tailor's apprentice but my master's out of town, can I help you?"

"You're...Him," Alexander muttered.

"Who's him? Why's anybody lookin' for me, eh?"

"I'm Alexander Hamilton," he grinned, new confidence overtaking him.

"Alexander? Nice to meet you! We're gonna be roomies, yeah?" He grinned.

"Oh, yes," Alexander nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Mulligan."

He bit back any remarks he might've thought tomade, silently thinking to himself that, naturally, all New Yorkers were in fact- weird.

* * *

 **I can confirm Alexander's last statement, as I'm a New Yorker... And I'm very weird. No proof has been documented on the internet, but my classmates will tell you.**

 **Can I just say that I freaking hate my locker? I mean I'm pretty good with it, but for some reason on Thursdays it always acts up, and I miss like hal of science class because of it. Stupid locker.**


	2. Chapter 2: Doubts

**I'm doing revisions to the story, so check them out as I update!**

* * *

 **Still 1773, The home of the Mulligan's**

Alexander felt right at home with the Mulligan's.

They were a small enough family, immigrants, just like him. They were from Ireland and, were almost like their stereotype, loud and heavy drinkers.

Hugh Mulligan welcomed Alexander into the house, knowing the family that Alexander helped do trade with.

His stomach was full with all the food the household had shown him, and as he laid at the bottom of the bunk he shared with Hercules. He couldn't sleep, no matter how comfortable this mattress felt to him.

Thoughts raced through his head and as Hercules snored, he fretted relentless about his future.

A cold rush fell over him as he remembered the endless suffering that inspired him to leave the town...And the bad luck he couldn't seem to escape.

The bed creaked as he shifted and Alexander sighed.

He had seen things, and he had lost things that he didn't, didn't ever want to remember. And yet now, he was in a new place, but he couldn't ever believe that he would get away from that experience like he intended.

The stars twinkled and light filtered through the room, the night sky rapidly changing as the night became middle aged, then old and finally, a young baby, starting off as daylight.

He didn't realize it, but he had stayed up the whole night, lost in meaningless woes and dreams, and then he fell into darkness, sleep of some sort.

Nothing, however, brought Alexander back to consciousness better than shouting.

Hercules grunted, walking into the room. His blonde hair stuck up at edges, bed-head as Alexander had thought.

Alexander groaned and fell off the cot he was on, thanking god that he was on the bottom bunk.

"Finally, you're awake, eh?" he grumbled.

"Hnng?" he grunted, opening his eyes and looking at Hercules.

"Get up, mate," Hercules sighed and took a seat.

Alexander groggily, wiped at his eyes and clutched his side, sitting up. "I'm awake…" He was tired, and he blamed it on himself, but, he really didn't need Hercules to wake him up.

"Slept in till noon, mate, you sure you're alright?" he arched an eyebrow, placing his chin in his hands.

"It's noon?" he grunted and sat back up on his bed. "I stayed up late last night…"

"Doing what? You ought to be careful around these parts."

"Thinking…"

Hercules struck Alexander as a superstitious man, and those words seemed to mean something to Alexander, something important, and they almost made him shudder.

"Hmm," The older man replied. "Be careful around here, Alexander. This house isn't a big fan of the Brits, and their taxes, and a lot of our neighbors aren't."

Alexander snorted, he had read things, and so he knew that the British had been unfair to their colonies,taxing them unfairly. Still, the war climate was just starting to boil, people weren't too divided yet, but groups were forming.

"I've heard...Hugh told me in his letters," Alexander hummed, with a smirk. "I don't know if I'm quite entitled to having a political opinion on the British, so I'll withhold from saying anything, my dear friend."

Hercules sighed, and as if inviting himself to speak, gave himself the opportunity to rant. "Ever since that damn war, those stupids Brits have been taxing everything! Treating us like we're some Greek scum! But, we'll destroy these Persians…."

"You sure do like using Greece as an example, no?" He raise an eyebrow and threw his blanket off himself. "Care to take me out, I'd love to explore the city."

He was gaining a former confidence, and his sassy, somewhat flirty attitude was reforming bit by bit.

Hercules leaned back in his chair. "Sure...Perhaps we can visit the bakery, and then tonight, I'll take you out to the bar, yeah?"

Alexander nodded, his fear of the future had been buried deep within himself, only if for a moment, to enjoy the city of New York and begin a new adventure.

* * *

 **Oh and a big, big thank you to all the people currently following the story! It makes me feel good to know you're out there supporting someone like me!- M**


	3. Chapter 3: Cyclops Refuted

**1776, New York.**

* * *

To be honest, Hamilton hadn't meant to punch a freaking cyclops.

Well, he did, buuuut, he didn't know it was actually a cyclops.

Two years had passed, and Alexander had found his place in New York. He was certainly no loyalist, and ready to die for the patriots if it required.

He had also developed just a tiny, eensy, weensy, little bit of spunk, one that some would consider dangerous.

Only nineteen, and just a little rambunctious, he listened to Seabury's speech, a burning opinion already in his head.

Which was why when Seabury tried to protest the Revolution Alex was just about ready to punch him in the face.

Two years in New York had taught him something, if you wanted to accomplish what you wanted, you need to have an edge, and of course, that New Jersey was hell.

He went to King's College now, and years at King's College couldn't have offered him what years at Princeton could have never. At least, in his opinion, he never went to Princeton, due to a certain Bursar with a broken nose.

He had wised up and taken his studies seriously, becoming the best student at, not only King's College, no, Alexander considered himself someone not bound to his past, and the best student in New York.

At first, he considered it, the right thing to say in opposition to this idiotic farmer. How could he possibly refute this man?

The simple answer, was of course his fist.

As Seabury began his walk away from his lecture, Alexander snook up behind him like a ninja. He grabbed onto his rough shoulders and turned him towards him, though he didn't quite expect what he saw.

Seabury was ugly before, but he became worse as he mutated, becoming a snub nosed, completely bald, man. He smelled worse than before, and became much taller than Alexander, at least one foot of the monster loomed over him like a horrible secret.

Alexander chuckled nervously, taking a step back and looking up at the monster.

The creature was familiar, and the advice that Hercules had given a few years ago resounded through his head.

His body trembled with fear of the unknown, and fear of the past. HE had encountered such before as he recalled from his childhood, but someone always stepped in to come and save him.

Right now, he had no one. Yet he didn't want to go down fighting, and so-

He punched.

* * *

Aaron Burr was a son of Athena, and he wore that title with pride.

He was cautious, over cautious, and just a tiny bit pretentious, with a dazzling smile he thought enchanted all the ladies.

Today was another, somewhat ordinary day for him. He knew he was to go search for another demigod, one with extraordinary promise as both Chiron and Washington had told him.

His mother had given him a cap that had been enchanted with magic, so that he could follow this said demigod, Alexander Hamilton was the name.

Alexander was special, because he was an unbeliever, just like Aaron was when he found out about his past.

There was a connection that had not been fully established- yet. But Aaron didn't want to truly make the connection, not when Alexander didn't understand the things he understood himself.

He chuckled, under his guise, pulling off his cap and unsheathing his sword. It was an imperial gold sword, one given to him by his father, a legacy of roman descent.

The cyclops grunted and turned over to Aaron, the awful stench falling into his nostrils. Aaron swiped, piercing the ribcage of the monster.

Gray sand fell onto the ground as he attacked, and yet, he didn't die just yet, simply reformed.

Aaron chuckled, more nervously than Alexander had. This fight was about to get much, much more worse.


	4. Chapter 4: The Schuyler Sisters

**Alrighty, Kids, I'm so so sorry for not updating for nearly a whole year, but I'm devising a sort of writing schedule that fits in with all my other activities this year. Hopefully, I'll stick to it.- M**

* * *

Nothing gets men more fired up than a simple fight. Of course, due to such riling up, things get way too out of hand.

A lady, especially one born from the goddess Aphrodite, the goddess of love, lust, and passion, Is the key to stopping small acts of violence. Perhaps passively, and other times-

"Oi! Oi!" Angelica Schuyler called out, sheathing her sword and looking around at the mess around her. "I bloody swear, you're a fool, Aaron Burr." She spat, glaring rather crossly at the bloodied teen.

Angelica Schuyler was one of five sisters, two of which were children of powerful gods. She had inherited some of the best powers from their mother. Of course, that included her charmspeak.

Peggy had warned her that going to the downtown area would pose some sort of threat or danger, but Angelica was proud, brash and confident.

And so, Angelica came, saved the day and calmed the mess down, looking beautiful as she did.

She sighed and extended her hand out to Aaron. "How in the name of Christ did this happen, eh?"

Angelica and Burr had a streak, a violent streak, but a streak that always resulted in her coming to save him, and at other times, him saving her, but mostly the first.

Aaron shook his head and pursed his lips, clutching his arm. "You ever been stepped on by a cyclops?" He groaned.

"Stuff it, mate," She scoffed and tossed him a slice of ambrosia. "Who's the one over there?"

Alexander, who was absorbing the events, cradled his fist and sputtering, examining the situation with wild, surprised eyes. He had seen things before, and he didn't like seeing them at all if he were being honest.

Things, things, things were so disastrous, and he didn't intend to see them ever, ever again.

"Alexander Hamilton," Burr answered. "My head has this terrible ache, care to kiss it better, Angie?"

"No thank you, Aaron," She scoffed and watched Alexander. Reigned in curiosity glowed in her eyes, scanning over than panicking man. She could, perhaps, persuade him into being calm, or, or she could watch him figure out his situation.

"Oh dear- This-This is wrong, yeah?" He stuttered, putting his hands around his head. "Very Very-"

"Shut up, will you?"

He shut up.

She smiled and took his hand. "Now you're going to calm down, and you're going to start to think straight, Alexander."

Her voice was soft as silk but hardened with premature stress, love, and care. It was like that of a mother, a sister, the true source of womanly affection.

Alexander listened, and Angelica felt his heart rate slow down. "So, Alexander, I'm Angelica, and this fool over here is Aaron Burr." She cooed.

He furrowed his eyebrows. "You saw that, didn't you? I'm not, I'm not the only one right?"

"Oh yes, yes, but Alex, worry about that later! Right now, we must get you to a safe haven for people of our breed!"

"Oh-Oh I, No I, I am not like you- I'm not crazy!" Alexander could've gotten away with that statement, had he not been dressed like a beggar in his state of mind. Any other person and they would not have believed him.

"He's an unbeliever, Angie, leave him be," Aaron sighed.

Angelica scoffed once more, "Then, pardon me, Aaron, but why did you come here then? If not to bring him back to _there?_ "

"I-" he started.

"Pardon me, but where is _there_ exactly?" Alexander interrupted. He had figured out that he had to play at these strangers' games. He knew of them, he knew they were around the same age as he and yet- this couldn't be them. He had to figure this all out, even if meant following mad-possibly magic people.

"Well Alexander that's just the thing, right?" Angelica chuckled. She had a determined, unsatisfied look in her eyes. "Come with me!"

He furrowed his eyebrows, a three-second contemplation. "Fine."

* * *

Alexander had never ridden in luxury.

He had also never seen such beautiful women who desired to be around him.

As he gazed into the eyes of Angelica, he found himself lost in a deep thought, as to why he didn't wear better clothes today, and more importantly, the cyclops.

As a child, he had had a knack for trouble, and always, his mother or father would intervene, he had thought, as they always told him, it was just his head playing tricks.

His father, who had rarely been there always seemed to glow with some reddish air as he cleared away Alexander's monsters. He had ignored it, of course, but never, never had he thought this glow was real.

Yet, as he grew older, and unfortunately, more alone, the monsters became more and more present in his reality, but sometimes he'd close his eyes, and they would just be simple humans, or animals, nothing out of the ordinary.

In Angelica, in Angelica he saw something like the glow he saw in his father, weaker, pink, but it was there.

He didn't know why he had chosen to follow them, not really. He chose to, perhaps because he was striving for an economical, educational climb to the top, but there was something deeper to it.

So he sat there, he sat in the luxurious carriage with two other girls, and Aaron Burr.

After moments of horrible silence, he spoke. "So, Ms. Schuyler," he started timidly.

"Yes?" All three of the girls spoke, then looking to each other and then giggling.

"Be more specific, will you, Alexander?" the smaller one, Peggy, said. "I'm Margarita, do call me Peggy."

"Elizabeth!" The girl sitting in the middle said, her black braid resting on her shoulder.

"You know me, enough with the introductions, what was your question, Alexander?" Angelica declared.

"Well, you're quite impatient, no?" Alexander snickered, crossing his arms. "I would like to know...where you four are taking me?"

"Camp Half-Blood. The camp for people like us," she explained as if that made everything clear for him.

"You mean… The Patriots have dropped so far they're enlisting psychopaths to fight for them? I'd fight for General Washington but-"

"Oh, you innocent little child," Peggy chuckled, though she wasn't older than him at all.

Aaron sniffled and shook his head. "You're a demigod, Alexander. And that cyclops we saw? He was very, very real. You'll learn soon enough."

Angelica nodded in agreement, and Eliza closed her eyes, swaying softly and humming to the beat of the carriage. Alexander found himself listening to the hums, tilting his head back.

"I don't believe it, not yet, but if you can help me...I'll follow."

"Good, because we're about to change your life!" Angelica beamed. Then, she smirked a dangerous a smirk, and as Aaron Burr leaned against the wall, he shook his head, knowing that the smirk was no good.

"Lead the way…"

Reluctancy.


	5. Chapter 5: Camp Camp!

The carriage rolled to an abrupt stop, stopping at the bottom of a rolling hill. The creaking of the wheels had lulled Alexander to sleep like a lullaby his mom would sing, though nowhere as harmonious. His thin frame jolted awake once it pulled to a stop, and he looked around, confused and almost alarmed.

The three sisters giggled at Alexander's post-sleeping state, Eliza opening her mouth, and then closing it almost as if about what she was about to say was too embarrassing.

Alexander noticed this and, albeit groggily, said, "Well...Elizabeth, if you've got somethin' to say, say it."

She just shook her head and pursed her thin lips.

"You're impatient, even when you have just woken up," Aaron observed, propping open the carriage door.

He was silent, and Alexander had forgotten the man had existed. At his first application to Princeton, he had learned something about Aaron Burr, he was a determined student. However, he didn't think he was so...silent.

Alexander rubbed his eyes and slid on his glasses, letting the ladies and Burr, exit the carriage before he set foot on the soil.

The only thing was that Eliza didn't step out of the carriage like the others.

A staring contest was held between the two, and he furrowed his eyebrows. "Won't you step down, miss?" He tried hard to be polite, at least in front of the ladies, and sometimes he came off as impertinent, but not in this case.

"Oh, me?" Eliza said softly, her voice like silk, carrying tone like a breeze carrying a leaf. "I am to go home, I'm not exactly...Like you, per se." She was no demigod, but she saw things that they saw, alas, she wasn't allowed to go beyond these limits, into the camp they had designated for demigods.

"Of course," he snorted, rolling his eyes and stepping out of the carriage. Alexander rolled the sleeves up on his waistcoat and, sticking his finger in his mouth, he slicked back his hair. He was getting ready for a special moment, even though that moment had already passed, and the ones that occurred in the future, he didn't know of.

The other three had already made it to the top of the rolling hill, and were waiting somewhat patiently for the young man.

He walked up the hill, smelling the scent of fruit as he approached his 'friends.' "I live," he announced, almost proud of himself."

"Oh thank god," Aaron said sarcastically, throwing his hands up in the air. "This better have been for somethin' all this damn trouble."

Alexander narrowed his eyes and stepped beside them. He was looking a strawberry field, and from what he could smell, they were ripe and plump. "You brought me to a ...strawberry field?"

He scoffed at the incredulousness of it all. The events that had just occurred all built up to this. "You're joking, right?"

"Uh-Uh," Angelica smirked, pulling him just a step forward. A little footstep made a little difference. Crossing the barrier was important, the difference between seeing a strawberry field and-

Alexander gasped, looking upon the scenery that lay before him. It was as if a shield had been lifted from his eyes, and his blue eyes fluttered with awe.

There was still a strawberry field, yes, but it was further back in the scenery. From what he could see, there was a large set of cabins, formed in a circle-like shape. Everything else he saw seemed to be dedicated to extreme combatives, where he heard gunshots and swords clanging in the distance, and traditional home activities and he could see the smoke coming out of chimneys, where something was going on.

"This is…" Alexander prided himself on not being lost on words, but now, here, he was. "So...so…"

"Beautiful, yes, yes," Aaron sighed, ruining Alexander's moment. It was clear he wanted to get over with it all, and he didn't have the patience for the awe of this...child.

Peggy threw her hands up, kissing her sister quickly on the cheek. "My visions say that all is well...So I do believe that I have somewhere to be, now don't I?" She hummed brightly, and skipped down the hill as if she weren't witnessing this sudden change in places.

Angelica grabbed Alexander's hand forcefully and led him down the hill as he gaped at all that surrounded him. "I.."

"Yes, yes I know," she cooed. "Lovely, isn't it?"

Indeed, it was, though Alexander was pretty sure he saw a little boy scamper by with a bow and arrow. The structure of the camp was great, and it almost instilled some sort of inspiration in Alexander.

He pulled his hand away from Angelica's and sighed, trying to pretend that he was unamused by the scene. "Why am I here again?"

"Your purpose is undetermined, but you'll define that for yourself, won't you, Alexander?" Angelica said and looked in the other direction, just as she bumped into an old friend.

* * *

 **ded·i·ca·tion**

 **ˌdedəˈkāSH(ə)n/**

 ** _noun_**

 **1.**

 **the quality of being dedicated or committed to a task or purpose.**

 **2.**

 **The act of burning plantain while updating a new chapter of fanfiction**

 **Yep, kids, I did it! I burned plantain today!**

 **On the other hand, the most important thing is that I think Y'all are going to enjoy Angelica's old friend. I'll give you guys a hint, and tell you that it's someone that may end up being Alexander's (boy)friend.**

 **I tried my best to give Camp Half-blood an old-fashioned look, especially since a lot of features that exist at camp now, didn't exist then, (The volleyball pit, Thalia's tree, etc,,,)**

 **Please, Read and Review!**

 **-M**


	6. Chapter 6: Hey, your pants look hot!

John Laurens was a lawyer. He knew that for a fact. He could've been a doctor or a scientist, but under his father's advice, he became a lawyer. And then, he became a soldier. He knew he was destined to fight for this country.

He should've been in South Carolina, however, if his complete and only goal was to fight. New York had brought him to the attention of slavery and the thought of oppression happening to these slaves, who were, in fact, people, disgusted him. So, rather than heading for South Carolina, he took refuge in Camp Half-Blood, a camp similar to the one his father sent him to in England.

Besides the fact, here he didn't have to wear pants. Shaggy legs were normal for the satyrs, and he was in fact, half satyr, half human. Technically, he was half nymph, half human, but it wasn't like you often saw male nymphs, now did you?

He was bringing a bayonet to his friend, Lafayette when he bumped into Angelica Schuyler. He smiled brightly and bowed. "M'lady."

She curtsied slightly, and a bright smile appeared on her face. "Johnathan."

"It's just John, or Jacky, Angelica." he sighed and scratched at his neck. His blue eyes dusted over Alexander and raised an eyebrow. "And, who's this one?"

"Alexander," the nineteen-year-old said, albeit timidly. John had these eyes, cold focused eyes that, to Alexander, were beautiful, thrilling. "And you, sir...are?"

"Laurens, John Laurens." he introduced himself. A small smile played on his lips, mischievous and intrigued.

"Well...I'll let you two get acquainted, no?" Angelica sighed, feeling a third wheel like feeling come over her, and skipped away.

"Ladies…" Alexander sighed, chuckling and looked up at John, then making his eyes slowly downwards, now that he was alone with the man. He didn't say anything, but utter confusion ran through his mind.

"I must say...Angelica Schuyler is a peculiar one." he sighed as well. "Well Alexander, care to walk with me?" He questioned, gesturing to the large arena that seemed to be only a block away.

"Sure." He grinned, at the aspect of walking with the man who had instilled some sort of happiness into him. "And I must say…" he closed his eyes fumbling for words again, he seemed to be doing that more lately. "Your pants look hot, sir." He smiled brightly as if relishing how smooth his words flowed from his tongue.

Laurens blushed furiously and pushed Alexander forward ahead of him. "Sure! Thank you.." He gushed, sliding the bayonet underneath his arms. "So Alexander, who's your parent?"

"Why are you asking?" Alexander frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. "They're both dead. Or at least one is, the other one is..Gone."

"Ah! Precisely my point, Alexander," John grinned. "What happened to the 'other one' eh? The gods are cruel and they often leave their children without another word, and seein' as you're here, your parent that left has to be the godly one, yeah?"

"Godly one?" Alexander cocked his head to the side, raising a ginger eyebrow. "I misunderstand?"

"Of course, of course." John sighed if he couldn't even see that his pants were not in fact pants, how would he understand his godly parentage? "Your mom or your father must've fallen in love in a god, and then, they made you. Which means you're a demigod, just like Hercules and Theseus!"

Alexander chuckled and held up one of his arms, kissing his bicep. "If you're saying I'm half as heroic as they, I thank you, sir." They were psychotic, most definitely. \

John smiled, and as if sensing the conversation was going stale, waved over to Lafayette. "Lafayette! Look what I found!"

Lafayette grinned, wiping a red curl out of his face and turned over to John. "John, mon ami! Où étiez-vous? Et qui est-ce?"

"Pardonnez-moi, Lafayette, j'ai rencontré quelqu'un, Alexander Hamilton," John explained, patting ALexander on the shoulder encouragingly.

Lafayette beamed, kissing John and Alexander on the cheek twice, then looking over Alexander with a bright smile on his lips. "Mon petit Lion!"

Alexander blushed scarlet and turned away, crossing his arms. "Ne m'appelez pas cela, s'il vous plaît."

"Oh! So you speak francais too!" Lafayette grinned. "C'est...What's the word...c'est merveilleux!" The immigrant had arrived in the Americas only about a year ago, after being sent back to his home country of France upon being caught dressed up as a woman on his first attempt to arrive in the Americas. He was a son of Apollo and had thus inherited some of Apollo's greatest (and worst) traits.

He forced a smile onto his lips, shrugging and nodding. "Yes, quite right, mon ami," Alexander said. He was tired already, and although he had done almost nothing, the shock and adrenaline from earlier was already wearing itself out. He didn't notice when Lafayette brandished his weapon in hand, and, testing it out, shot it at the tree. At least not until it impaled the target.

"Damn!" he exclaimed, glancing at the blade that had whizzed past him. "That's sharp!"

"Its a bayonet, Alexander, mon ami. Of course, it's sharp," Lafayette scoffed, placing a hand on his hips. "Parle-moi de toi, ami."

Alexander placed his elbows behind his head and narrowed his eyes. "I don't feel like talking about myself, right now."

"Well, then let me tell you about myself!" Lafayette grinned again. He then began to tell Alexander, who wasn't interested in listening to the Frenchman recount his life, all about his life. All about his determination to fight for America's freedom, because it inspired him of his country, and his exploits to get the America's in the first place.

Alexander facepalmed and closed his eyes, walking along with the two. John listened to the story as if he had heard it before, many times in fact, and still, he found the story interesting. Lafayette just seemed to like talking about himself. The two were decent enough, good enough to be friends. They talked a lot, much to Alexander's dismay, but at the same time, he enjoyed it, mainly because he talked a lot too. They were intelligent, good-looking, and from what he could tell, good company.

His eyes scanned over the camp, and as far as he could see, there were plenty of kids, training as if they were preparing for a war. Alexander smiled at the fact and hummed softly to himself. The thought of war invoked passion into him, he wanted to be on the battlefield too. General Washington was out with his troops, and Alexander wanted to be part of those troops, fighting valiantly alongside his honor as they slayed hundreds of thousands of Lobsters.

Alexander desired to create the plans that won this war that, although was not just quite official yet, but was brewing over like water in a kettle.

"You're new, aren't you, Alexander?" John questioned, even though he knew the answer.

Alexander nodded meekly and looked up at the men on each side of him. He wondered what leeway his answer gave them, and how they would use it to their advantage.

"You ought to meet Mister D, then," John said, and Lafayette winced as those words were said.

* * *

 **Hey kids!It doesn't seem like Lafayette's to hyped for yet another visit to Mr. D, is he? I have some important questions for you guys to think about an answer (god I sound like an ELA teacher). I know I've made it pretty obvious, but can you guess who Alexander's parent is? Secondly, what are you guys waiting to see happen? What do you think will happen?**

 **I'**

 **Don't forget to Review!**

 **-M**


End file.
